The Soldier's Husband
by M. D. Jensen
Summary: Wash and Zoe, post-Niska.


Disclaimer: don't own.

Post-Niska. This is the only Firefly fic I've ever written, and I wrote it about two years ago. It's been sitting around my harddrive ever since, and I felt bad about that. So… here… haha.

_The Soldier's Husband_

Zoe woke to the sound of vomiting. It took her a moment to locate herself; it pulled her briefly back to the trenches, with moldy rations and low immune systems, and she found herself sucking in a familiar sigh of relief when her legs finally reminded her of the warm bed she was sitting in.

But then what was going on?

"Wash? Baby?" In the faint light that filtered from the hatch above, she could see the outline of her husband hunched over their latrine. "Wash?"

"Sorry," he gasped. "Sorry, sorry." He was panting; his voice was weak and sounded almost tearful. "Go back to sleep. I─" Then he cut off, retching.

"Mmhm. That should be easy, what with you providin' me with such melodious sounds to do it by, husband."

Something that normally would have made Wash laugh instead sent him into another round of apologies.

"Shh," Zoe soothed, rising smoothly from the bed. Her feet touched the cold floor gently but Wash gasped at the sound.

"Please don't, Zoe… I don't want you to see me like this."

"Can't really see you," Zoe reasoned. "I was more following the noises."

"Please," Wash repeated. Zoe froze. Without turning the lights on, Wash flushed the mess away and brushed his teeth. When she heard the water shut off, Zoe waited for him to come back to her, but he stayed where he was.

"Keep waitin' for you to say something funny, husband. Ain't used to this quiet you."

"Okay," Wash murmured. "I swear it wasn't the wife soup, lambietoes, so don't let this stop you from making it again."

She reached out to him. The room was small enough that her fingers caught a whisper of his skin, even though he was trying to stay away. "Come back to bed," she ordered, adding, "I can rub that belly if it would help."

Something that sounded an awful lot like a sob broke in the silence between them. "Zoe," Wash whispered, then his voice fell away.

"Talk to me." It was as close to a command as she could get with him. "Now."

There was a long pause. Then Wash sniffed. "I don't feel well."

"This I know."

"I might just get dressed and get up for the day."

"Oh no you don't. You get back in bed with me."

"I need…" Wash began, then stopped. "I'm sorry."

"Almost inclined to accept that apology, husband," Zoe drawled, hiding the fear that was beginning in her fingers and toes and leeching slowly inwards, towards her chest. "You not talkin' is gettin' just a mite irritatin'."

Sighing, Wash moved stiffly to their bed and lowered himself onto the edge. "Back in bed. Not going anywhere."

"Good. Now talk to me."

"I just don't feel well," Wash insisted quietly. Zoe slipped around to the other side of the bed and perched next to him, pressing her hand against his naked back. The skin beneath it was torn in places, and Zoe shuttered inwardly; she hadn't noticed those before. Was there an inch of her husband Niska hadn't hurt? Under her touch she felt his back convulse slightly, and a feeling began in her gut like something thrashing around.

"Look at me, baby," she pleaded, realizing of course why he didn't want to. The lighting was just enough to make out his contorted profile.

"You…" he sighed. It was an unmistakably wet sound.

"Me," Zoe replied, making it sound like a confirmation. Wash just stared at the floor.

"You… ain't cryin'," he murmured at long last. "Mal ain't cryin'. You've both been hurt… so much more 'n this. And I'm the only one sitting here… _blubbing._"

"Didn't marry you to be like me, husband," Zoe said quietly. "And I sure as hell did not marry you to be like the captain." Wash made a noise in his throat that she couldn't quite understand. "Now turn that pretty face to me and let me dry those cheeks."

Wash sniffed again before finally complying. As promised, Zoe lifted her hand, tracing every last tear with her thumb and trying not to feel the bruises on the skin beneath it.

"You were brave, baby," she promised him quietly. "You were my brave husband and now you can be afraid."

"He─" Wash gasped, and Zoe caught his hand in hers. "I─ that could have been you there. _Would_ have been you."

"If you weren't my strong and adorably jealous man," Zoe reminded him.

But that was the end of Wash's coherency. He curled up double beside her, not quite succeeding in his attempts to stifle his sobs with his hands. Zoe's heart cracked a little more with each pained, wet gasp that hit her ears and she pulled him to her before it could break entirely. For a moment he stayed physically turned from her. Then suddenly he pushed her backwards onto the bed, buried his face in her hair, and began to bawl, uninhibited. Her arms crept up to encircle him and she felt the sheets shift around her as he grabbed them up in his fists.

"Wash, baby," she soothed. She knew her voice was not a soft one but she tried her best to make it so. "It's okay, husband. We're both safe now."

"Zoe Zoe Zoe," came the gasping reply. And then she knew better than to try and coax him out of this state with more words. Shifting smoothly on the bed, she turned to kiss Wash's neck, then his cheek, then his hair, because she could not reach his lips. He didn't respond. Then, not knowing where in the 'verse her own response came from, Zoe laughed.

As though curiosity were enough to calm him slightly, Wash quieted almost immediately. "You laughin'?" he murmured, his voice weak and drippy.

"Mmhm."

Wash lifted his head a little more, exposing his bleary face to the open air. "Why're you laughin'?"

"Because," Zoe chucked, nuzzling her head against his. "You're all right."

"Yeah?"

"Because you're all right," Zoe whispered, "and I'm so scared."

"You were scared?" Wash whispered back.

"I am scared. Right now."

Concern spread over Wash's face, swiftly replacing his sorrow. "I'm okay, baby. Why are you scared?"

Zoe blinked, laughter faded now, and stared up at her husband. "When a soldier agrees to be in love, they agree to be scared."

Wash sighed, suddenly and finally out of emotions, collapsing heavily against her as though his bones had been suddenly dissolved. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart," he murmured. "But that ain't just for soldiers." Sleepy, empty, he curled up against her and slung an arm across her middle.

Drained herself from the whirlwind of her husband's emotions, Zoe sunk back into her pillow, her heart finally slowing. "No, I guess maybe it ain't," she murmured. The thought was new to her.

Surprising, how after years together she could still manage to grow even closer to this man.


End file.
